Shadowed (Unbound, Book 2)

Chapter Two

"Gone."

He didn't look up this time, like I'd asked him the time—it was meaningless. I narrowed my eyes on him, feeling as though he wasn't being one-hundred percent honest with me. But why would he lie? He was my father.

I swallowed, feeling hollow as I asked the question I was certain I didn't want him to answer, "Gone where?"

He set the chart down to hang on the railing of my bed and came to my side. Pulling the chair that was resting against the wall to beside the bed, he sat so that he was close enough for an easy conversation but not comfort. It looked like he was addressing a board of directors rather than his daughter. "Nora—"

"What's my full name?" I demanded.

My father blinked and said, almost as though on an automatic response, "Noreena Dwyer."

"And where is my mother?"

"She passed away," he said, sighing. His expression remained the same: emotionless. He didn't even blink this time, like saying my mother was dead was as easy as telling me to wear a sweater because it's supposed to be windy outside.

"Oh." I felt a pull in my chest. I couldn't remember knowing her or if knowing her had made it sad when she died. "When?"

"Nora," he said, "the doctor doesn't want anyone filling in the blanks for you or it could inhibit your recovery. You want to recover, right?"

I nodded. I also wanted to know what the hell his problem was. Why couldn't he tell me something that I could—and probably would—look up in some sort of database? At least I still remembered that there was such a thing as the internet. Obviously, we had money—I had a private room. Perhaps that meant that my family was emotionless, but I wanted to believe that I wasn't like this man. I had to feel something when I lost my mother, right? Pain, sorrow, the overwhelming despair at not having someone to confide in or teach me the things I needed to know. At least, if I was privileged, I probably had a computer and would be able to look up when she died.

"Then you'll need to remember these things on your own, I'm sorry." He leaned forward and placed his hand on top of mine. It was meant for comfort, obviously, but it felt... strange. Awkward, like somehow it wasn't right. It was as though he was trying to fasten a piece of Velcro with only the furry side—no match.

"So, then what can you tell me?" I pulled my hand away and narrowed my eyes. Call it a feeling—intuition maybe—but I hated secrets. It felt like I always had, and he looked full of them. "I want to know more about me than my name."

He sat back and watched me before answering. Sucking in a deep breath, he began quoting things about me like a basketball player's stats, "You're seventeen. You go to Grimas High School and live with me at Dwyer Manor in Wickenton. You're a good student. There's actually a Halloween dance that you've been saying to want to go to." He smiled.

"Seriously?" He thought a dance was important and not when my mother died? Hadn't Maible said I wasn't dating? I didn't think I was the type of girl to get excited over going to a dance alone. Maybe Devland had his information wrong. Or had I kept secrets from Maible? Confused, I sighed, and replied as honestly as I could, "I don't want to go to a dance now."

"You should go." He nodded, as though his saying it decided it would come to pass.

"To a dance? No, thank you." I slumped down in the bed and pulled the blankets to my chin. "Isn't there something about me other than my social life or stats that you can share?"

"I don't think I should go against what the doctors are saying."

"Have you ever lost your memory? It's awful. Terrifying." I waited for him to speak but of course, he didn't. "Can't you tell me anything that would at least give me something to go on?"